


The Date That Launched a Thousand More

by Starlithorizon



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, M/M, be kind about discrepancies!, because that's how fitz spells his name, please keep in mind that the karl in canon is the carl you see here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2115540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlithorizon/pseuds/Starlithorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carl and Martin finally go on their first date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Date That Launched a Thousand More

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fractionallyfoxtrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractionallyfoxtrot/gifts).



> This was written for the always lovely Fitz, who sends me shark things and writes this amazing universe between Carl and Martin. As such, I know that his name is spelled with a K in canon, but sometimes, you just have to say, "Shush. No. Just let his name be Carl."  
> This is one of those times.

He was nervous. _Jesus_ , he was nervous. This wasn't his first date; far from it. But it was his first date with Martin, and he was sweating into his blazer and he was pretty sure the shifting eyes weren't giving the waiters confidence in him. Their lack of confidence was messing with his own confidence, really. He drummed his fingers on the table and tugged on his tie a little.

Carl had shown up fifteen minutes early to the restaurant because he didn't want Martin to feel like he'd been stood up for a single second, and now here he was, glancing at his watch and staring as the seconds ticked past eight. And, sure enough, Martin fairly fell into the restaurant exactly one minute late, a flush draped across his cheeks and sweat shining against his hairline. The hostess led him to Carl's table and handed him a menu, but from then on, it was just them.

"You look nice," Carl said, gesturing to the general niceness of Martin. He was tousled and red in precisely the ways that Martin hated, but Carl found it endearing. His suit was cheap and fit poorly, but then, the same could be said of Carl's. All that mattered was that they were both looking nervous and excited on either side of the table while they waited for their food.

"So do you," Martin finally said, smiling a little. It was nice to see confidence shine in his eyes sometimes. It happened so rarely, but more and more often with Carl. That left Carl slinging a lazy smile the captain's way.

"You weren't waiting too long, were you?" Martin asked abruptly, anxiety ruddying his face further. Carl rather liked the way Martin's freckles looked against a flush.

"No, no, not at all!" he fibbed. He certainly wouldn't admit that he'd gotten here so early. (Though he would several years into their marriage, on the umpteenth retelling of their first date. Martin would smile fondly and take his hand and call him a dolt before pressing a kiss to his temple.)

"Oh, that's good!"

They fell into a gentle silence that made Carl think of the crackling space of the radio before one or the other spoke. It was comfortable and tethering. He'd always liked people who were okay with the quiet. Martin was fidgeting with his napkin, rolling the hem between forefinger and thumb, but it was more thoughtful than anything. Hopefully they were good thoughts.

"How was Nice?" Carl asked after a bit, the silence slowly creeping in and chipping at his confidence. He liked quiet, but why wasn't Martin _talking_? He'd probably had a long, tiring day, and knowing what he did about having to share a cockpit with Douglas, anyone would be jaded with the idea of talking for the rest of the day. But still, this was a date. That's what people did on date. That was, generally speaking, the sole purpose of the first date!

"It was lovely!" Martin finally said, looking up and grinning. It was a smile Carl very much adored, and it launched an incredible number of butterflies in his stomach. "We didn't really get enough time to leave the airport since it was sort of an in-out sort of thing, but I do like the airport there!"

Martin continued to ramble in this vein, lighting up slowly and cautiously as his words spun on and on. He told Carl about his landing, which had been light and fine and which even Carolyn had complimented. He explained the rules to the game he and Douglas had played all day, and when their dishes were in front of them and steaming merrily away, Carl had smirked and offered up "Rosemary's Babysitter." Soon, they were both tacking words onto the names of movies to make them ridiculous, and Martin appeared to be better with Carl than with Douglas. That just filled him up with light, a feeling he found he could get very used to.

The date ended at an early hour, with a kiss hastily dusted against the corner of his mouth before Martin scrambled into his van and away. Carl fairly floated to his own car, all smiles and warm, fuzzy feelings. They spent the whole night texting and smiling at little glowing screens in the darkness.

It wasn't extraordinary, and neither of them had illuminated quite the way they had for their second date at the Duxford Air Museum, but it was beautiful. It was _theirs_. It was the date that launched a thousand more. They never went back to that restaurant, mediocre and expensive as the food was, but they both smiled and felt those same butterflies every time they drove past it.

And then, years from that first date, as they sat around a table brimming with food and people that they loved, Carl would gently take Martin's hand and ask him how his trip to Nice had been. They would kiss, and everyone around the table would either chorus Arthur's loud "Awww!" or Ethan's louder "Ewww!" and they would be supremely, incandescently happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for being patient with this one too, Fitz! I know it took forever and a day!


End file.
